


Inescapable (I'm not even gonna try)

by crose84



Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, First Time, Future Fic, Lucy's Birthday, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, drunk Lucy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29953101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crose84/pseuds/crose84
Summary: It's Lucy's birthday and she just wants two things: a nice Italian dinner and to wear a hot dress for a fun night out with her friends.ORTim helps Lucy celebrate her birthday.
Relationships: Tim Bradford & Lucy Chen, Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen
Comments: 12
Kudos: 157
Collections: The Rookie Mid-Season Madness





	Inescapable (I'm not even gonna try)

**Author's Note:**

> This song was inspired by Taylor Swift's Dress. It's a little steamy, but honestly, I'm not that great at writing steamy scenes. So, I hope the rest of the fic makes up for those scenes. Also, I don't pretend to understand The Rookie's timeline (I don't even think The Rookie understands The Rookie's timeline anymore), so I kept dates/time vague. Kudos and feedback deeply appreciated. I hope you enjoy it!

“Why are you eating a salad?” Jackson asked Lucy suspiciously one warm Monday afternoon. They were sitting outside at their usual table near the food trucks for lunch. John Nolan rounded out their trio, their former TOs at a nearby table. 

She sighed, looking down at her bowl, “I’m trying to eat healthier,” she had eaten most of the good stuff out of her salad and was now pushing around the remaining limp lettuce unenthusiastically. “And I bought this great, and I do mean great, dress for Saturday night.” She wanted to do the dress justice. 

“Buy that dress with anyone in particular in mind, Luce?” Jackson asked, staring over her shoulder, where her former TO sat stone-faced listening to something Angela was telling him.

“Nope,” she popped the p sound. She refused to turn and look over her shoulder to follow Jackson’s gaze. “I saw a hot dress and I wanted it for myself.” She gave up on the salad and pushed the bowl away. “You know what I really want to do on my birthday?” She asked the guys.

Jackson and John exchanged a look, “uh, wear a hot dress, go to a fun club, dance, and drink the night away?” Jackson asked, confusion in his voice, “that’s what you told us you wanted to do, so that’s why we planned Saturday night.” They’d even gotten Nyla and Angela on board. Although, there’d be no drinking, just chaperoning for a still pregnant Angela.

“Well, yes, obviously,” she leaned forward against the table, “but I mean my actual birthday. I want to go out to dinner. Italian. I’m talking about cheesy, saucy pasta, good red wine, tiramisu, and gelato.”

John just shook his head, “didn’t you just say you were trying to eat healthier?”

“Yes, and I will eat healthier, every day but Thursday. And Saturday.” She gave them her best smile, “So, you’re in, right?”

“Sorry, Luce, I have class,” John told her, apologetically. 

“I thought we were celebrating your birthday on Saturday, so I’m going on a date with Isaac on Thursday. He has to work Friday night,” Jackson offered by way of apology. 

She sighed, and tried to mask her disappointment, “I’ll figure something out.”

~~~

“Did you find someone to go to dinner with you tomorrow?” John asked Lucy when she and Jackson sat down for lunch.

“No,” she frowned, “I’ve given up on that plan,” she admitted. “I’m also not sure about Saturday. I know once I get there it will be fun, and I do trust you guys to have my back.” The closer they got to the weekend the more unsure she became. She hated it, but the idea of going to a club brought up trauma she thought she’d handled. 

“We do,” Jackson promised her, “you and your drink will never leave our sight. You go home with no one but us.”

“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s just, I don’t know. Don’t cancel our plans yet. I’ll work through it.” Maybe she should call her therapist and see if they could squeeze her in for an extra session. 

~~~

“Something is wrong with Lucy,” Tim announced to Angela over lunch on Wednesday. “She’s eaten a salad every day this week.” 

Angela frowned at him over the bottle of water she’d just raised to her lips, “why do you know what Lucy’s had for lunch every day this week? She’s fine, she just wants to fit into a hot dress on Saturday.”

“What’s Saturday?” He looked away from Lucy and found Angela studying him like she would a perp in the box. 

“Her birthday party, because, you know, her birthday is tomorrow.”

He knew, “why wasn’t I invited to her birthday party?” Not that he wanted to go. Not that he’d ever gone to a party, birthday or otherwise, of any of his other former rookies.

“Because it’s at a club. You know a place with loud, pulsing music, overpriced, too sweet drinks, and hot, sweaty gyrating bodies. Does that sound like something you would like?” She hated that she was pregnant and not able to enjoy the night fully. If it was anyone but Lucy she’d pass on the night out until after she had her baby.

“No.” It sounded truly awful. He’d hate every second of it.

She popped a French fry into her mouth, still studying him, “and that’s why I didn’t tell you about it. You’re welcome to come if you want to though.”

“I don’t.” He said, flatly. 

“Okay. So tell me again, why do you know what she’s had for lunch this week?”

He sighed, knowing Angela wasn’t going to let it go, “she never eats salads. Lucy likes real food, well, as real as a veggie burger can be. Something is bothering her,” he added, distracted, before thinking better of it. He’d been stealing glances at her while talking to Angela, and he knew Lucy, could read her body language expertly after being in a shop with her twelve hours a day for more than a year. Something was up.

Angela turned on the bench to look over at the P2 table, “she looks fine,” she told Tim when she turned back to face him. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” 

Angela kicked him under the table, “just ask her if something is bothering her. You’re not going to figure out what it is by creepily staring at her from across the courtyard.”

He didn’t say anything in response, just glared at her.

~~~

“What’s wrong with Lucy?” Tim demanded the answer from Jackson when he saw the other man in the hallway outside of the locker rooms later that evening.

Angela smacked him on the arm, hard, “I told you to ask her, not interrogate Jackson.”

Jackson looked between Tim and Angela trying to figure out how much to tell them. How much Lucy would want them to know.

“Out with it, West,” Tim crossed his arms over his chest and pinned him with his most intimidating glare. 

He took a deep breath and cast a glance to the women’s locker room to see if there was any sign of Lucy exiting. “She’s nervous about Saturday, having second thoughts.”

Angela frowned, “we’ve got her back. She’s going to be fine. She needs this and she deserves it.”

“I told her that. She just, she hasn’t done anything like this since before all that happened.” He tried to avoid shifting nervously under the glare Tim was still leveling at him.

“If she doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t have to go. Have you already forgotten the speed dating mess?” He turned his glare to Angela.

“Yes, she does, Tim. She needs to do this for herself. To know that she can. There is no safer way for her to do it than with Nolan, Jackson, Nyla, and I watching her six.”

“And then there’s the whole dinner debacle,” Jackson added before he could change his mind.

“What dinner debacle?” Angela asked trying to remember if they’d agreed to take Lucy to dinner too. Whoever said pregnancy brain wasn’t real was most definitely a man. 

Jackson sighed, “she decided she wants to go out to dinner tomorrow night for her actual birthday. I think she’s trying to hedge her bet in case she bails on her party. Either of you want to take her out for a nice Italian dinner for her birthday?” He asked Tim and Angela hopefully. He’d feel less guilty about having plans of his own if he knew she was getting her dinner.

Angela shook her head, “I’m too pregnant. I’m good for one night only these days.”

“Too pregnant for what?” Lucy asked as she approached the trio. She gave each of them a careful look, trying to figure out what she’d just walked in on, “what are you guys pow-wowing about?”

“Just trying to convince Tim to come to your birthday party,” Angela answered quickly.

Lucy just laughed, “please, while I would love to see Tim Bradford in a club, I never got my hopes for it actually happening.” He would do a lot of things for her, but she was pretty sure this wasn’t one of them. 

~~~

Lucy had just hung up from an awkward phone call with her parents and settled onto the couch, remote in hand when there was a knock on her door. She thought briefly about ignoring it and hoping that whoever was on the other side would go away. The person knocked again, and she forced herself off the couch with a deep sigh. “Coming.” She called out to keep them from knocking again. She looked through the peephole and momentarily froze before pulling open the door, “Tim.” Surprise colored her voice, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” He asked as if that made his presence obvious.

“Yes.” She’d seen him briefly before roll call this morning and he’d simply nodded at her, said “happy birthday, Boot,” and walked away. It was the most Tim Bradford of birthday greetings.

“You going to make me stand in the hallway or can I come in?”

She opened the door wider and stepped back to allow him space to enter. His presence filled up her living room. She swallowed hard when she finally registered the gray dress pants and white button-down he was wearing. He wore the clothes incredibly well, looking better than he had any right to. “You get lost on your way to a date or something?” Not that she wanted the answer to that question.

He rolled his eyes at her, “don’t make me regret this, Boot.” He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her spending her actual birthday alone, not getting the dinner she wanted since Jackson had mentioned it the day before. She deserved the birthday she wanted.

“Regret what, exactly?” She asked him, confused. She knew she was missing some vital piece of information. 

“You want Francesca’s or not?” Nerves, as the enormity of what his presence in her living room meant settled over him, made his voice sharper than he’d intended. 

“Umm,” cheesy, saucy pasta, red wine, tiramisu, and gelato. How did he know what she’d wanted for her birthday? “Yes, but,” she thought about asking him how he knew, but it had to be Jackson’s doing. “You need a reservation for Francesca’s.”

“Yes, which we have,” and would be late for if she didn’t stop staring at him like he’d grown a second head and was speaking gibberish. 

She looked down at her leggings and cropped sweatshirt, “It’s like dress and heels fancy.”

“You better go change then,” he gave her a gentle push in the direction of her bedroom. 

She took a few steps before turning back to him, “you don’t have to take me out to dinner because Jackson asked you to or because…”

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to,” he interrupted her. He lowered himself onto her couch to wait for her to get ready.

She escaped to her bedroom, closing the door behind her. She leaned back against the door and took a deep, settling breath, “just dinner, just dinner, just dinner,” she whispered to herself. “It means nothing. Just dinner. Just friends.”

She pushed herself away from her bedroom door and went to her closet in search of a dress to wear.

She’d wanted to take longer on her hair and makeup but could sense his impatience despite the distance. She’d opted to leave her hair down in loose waves that fell over her shoulders and just done a very basic makeup application. She’d chosen a short-sleeved, red, wrap dress that fell to her knees and tied at the waist. She hadn’t had a lot of time to think or try on different options. 

Tim’s reaction, which she would have missed if she hadn’t known him, known to be looking for it, told her she’d made the right choice. His eyes darkened, his gaze sweeping over her. “Ready?” He asked her finally, his voice thicker than normal.

“Ready.” But for what exactly, she wasn’t sure. 

~~~

He’d underestimated how much sitting across a candlelit table from Lucy would impact him. The candlelight cast a warm glow over her, drawing him in even more than usual. She looked beautiful, but that was no surprise, she was always beautiful. If beauty was the only thing she had going for her, he wouldn’t be in so much trouble, but he’d known early on that Lucy was so much more than her looks. She was genuinely kind and compassionate. She challenged him without hesitation. She was sunshine and warmth. He had never realized before how much he needed that. Wanted it or had been missing it.“What?” He could tell by the frown on her face that she had said something to him that required an answer.

“I said you have to call me Lucy and that we can’t talk about work.”

“Okay,” he agreed, easily. 

She narrowed her eyes at him, “okay?”

He just smiled at her, “calling you by your given name isn’t such a hardship, Lucy.” He emphasized her first name.

“And yet, you so rarely do it.” She picked up her menu and started reading through it. “Let’s play 20 questions.” She told him after she’d decided what she was going to order.

“No,” he didn’t look up from his menu.

She just laughed, “I wasn’t really asking, but telling you we’re going to play 20 questions.” She smiled brightly at him, “I’ll go easy on you.

He bit back his retort, deciding not to fight a losing battle. 

She waited until after they’d given their dinner order to their waiter, before turning her attention back to the man across the table from her. “Favorite TV show.”

“Sportscenter.” He answered her automatically. 

She frowned, “doesn’t count.”

“Of course it counts. It’s my favorite show. I watch it every night before bed.”

She shook her head no, “that’s like saying your favorite show is the news. Give me something with characters and a plot.” She just sighed when he remained quiet, “Game of Thrones? Breaking Bad? Homeland? The Office?” She suggested.

“I see enough violence in my day-to-day, I don’t need to watch it on TV too,” He told her. “Isabel was a big fan of Grey’s Anatomy.” He pushed the words out quietly and in a rush. 

She laughed again, delight washing over her face. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “McDreamy or McSteamy? I was always fond of Karev. When did you stop watching? I ducked out after they killed off McDreamy, but I sometimes read online reviews to know if anything interesting is going on.”

He just glared at her and took a sip of his wine.

“You still watch!” She leaned back in her chair delighted and fought the urge to laugh again. “This is so wonderful.” She couldn’t stop smiling at him. “Okay, favorite band?”

He wanted to be annoyed, but it was hard when she was grinning at him, and happiness radiated off her. “I don’t know,” he answered, mostly because he knew she expected him to be difficult. 

“Let me guess, Dave Matthews Band or Phish. No, Coldplay.” 

“Three solid bands,” he grumbled. He had a feeling she was poking fun at his age.

“Favorite place?” She changed the subject.

Finally, a truly easy one, “the beach. Early morning at sunrise or sunset. Dodger Stadium on a Saturday afternoon is a close second.” The feel of the warm sun, a cold beer in his hand, a bag of salted peanuts - football was his favorite sport, but there was something magical about a baseball game.

“I’ve never been. To a sports thing, I mean. I’ve been to the beach tons of times.” There was something centering about sitting on a quiet beach with just the sound of the waves for company. 

He looked at her in utter disbelief. Who went their whole life without ever going to a ballgame of any kind? “Hockey, baseball, football, basketball, golf, nothing?”

She shook her head no, “I’m pretty sure my dad can’t even tell you the names of the LA teams. He is not a sports guy.” He thought they were frivolous and a waste of time and money.

“Clear your calendar, Lucy, we have lots of sports things to attend.” It was his duty to take her to at least one game for each of the major sports. 

She wrinkled her nose, “I don’t think I’d like it. I for sure would have no idea what was going on, and you would get annoyed having to explain to me.” 

“It will be fun,” he promised. There was a chance she was right and he would get annoyed at having to explain the nuances and rules of the different sports, but mostly he was sure he’d enjoy sitting next to her while sharing stadium food and drinking an overpriced beer.

The waiter appeared and put their dinners in front of them. Lucy had ordered the gnocchi and he’d settled on a seafood pasta dish. They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. “Favorite comfort food?” 

“What?” Tim had almost forgotten about the game.

“You know, comfort food? What do you reach for after a rough day, a hard shift, when you’re in your feelings? For example, I want French Fries, or macaroni and cheese, Kraft from the blue box. Oh, or ice cream. Or my mom’s chicken and dumpling soup, but that’s harder to get when I need it, and mine doesn’t taste nearly as good as hers.”

“I don’t have one. I’d rather go for a run or hit the bag.” He replayed what she’d just told him back in his mind, “why is it hard to get your mom’s soup? Your parents live here.”

She sighed deeply, and took a sip of her wine, “my relationship with them has been tense ever since I joined the academy. They don’t approve.” 

“Even though you love your job and are good at it?” How could they not be proud of her?

“You think I’m good at my job?” She sighed again. “It doesn’t change what they believe about the criminal justice system. And even if you take the job out of it, they had very specific, very high expectations and ideas about what their daughter should be and I’ve never met them. Not really.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“They love me. It’s enough.” They were good people, who had tried their very best to be good parents and had mostly succeeded. She shifted her leg forward and pressed the outside of her knee against the inside of his. “I gave you a bunch of easy questions and you gave me one about my parents. Not fair.”

“I already know the easy stuff about you, Lucy. You’re an open book.” He waited to see if she’d just brushed his leg accidentally, but she didn’t move it away. “Your favorite shows are Golden Girls, Dateline, or whatever reality TV show you’re bingeing with Jackson, your favorite band changes with your mood, you love the beach but also hiking with Cujo, and yes, you’re good at your job.”

~~~

“Thank you.” Lucy was standing next to Tim outside of the restaurant, waiting for the valet to drive up in his truck. “Best night in a long time.”

She stepped closer to him as more people exited the restaurant to wait for their cars. Tim put his arm around her and tucked her closer to his side, “you good?” He checked in with her, knowing that she didn’t like feeling crowded.

“Mmmhmm.” She looked up at him to find him staring down at her. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but in the next moment, his lips were on hers. She sighed into his kiss and monetarily forgot they were standing on the sidewalk in front of Francesca’s in a crowd of people. 

~~~

“Is Jackson coming home tonight?” Tim asked her as he pulled his truck into the parking lot of her apartment complex.

“I don’t know, but he’s not home now.” She knew that he had driven to his date with Isaac, and his car wasn’t in the lot. She squeezed his knee, she’d had her hand on his knee the whole drive home, needing the physical connection. “You should come upstairs and finish what we started outside the restaurant.”

He met her gaze in the darkened cab of the truck, “are you sure?”

She nodded and waited for him to get out of the truck and come around to open her door. 

“Tim.” They’d made it to her front door, and she was trying to unlock it with shaking hands. He was standing behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand moving her hair out of his way so he could place hot kisses on her neck, paying particular attention to her tattoo. 

The lock finally turned and she pushed the door open. She quickly stepped out of her heels and dropped her keys and clutch on the entryway table. She took his hand and led him to her bedroom, grateful she’d tidied up a bit this morning before her shift. Not that her bedroom was new to him. He’d spent more than a couple of nights holding her while she’d cried or battled nightmares following her kidnapping. Those nights had always been about comfort and safety though.

She turned to face him, his mouth immediately found hers, his hands went to the tie at her waist tugging it loose. She tugged his shirt free from his pants and stepped back from him just far enough to focus on the shirt’s buttons.

He shrugged out of his shirt and slipped his hands inside her untied dress, pushing it off her. “So beautiful,” he murmured. He couldn’t get enough of her, wanted his hands and his mouth everywhere. As he followed her onto the bed and covered her body with his he knew one night would never be enough. 

~~~

“What time is it?” Lucy asked sleepily when she felt him start to stir. She had no idea how much time had passed. She burrowed deeper into his side and held him tighter.

“Not quite five.” He kissed the top of her head and tried to ease out of the bed without disrupting her too much.

She just held him even tighter, “where are you going?”

“Home. I have to feed and walk your dog before shift this morning.” He pressed kisses to her shoulder, neck, and jaw before finding her mouth. “And shower and change clothes.”

She let go of him, and sat up in the bed, pushing her hair off her face, “I have a shower here.”

He groaned, “Luce.” He kissed her hard and fast, “do you need me to come back and pick you up for shift later?”

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know what I hear from Jackson.” He usually told her if she needed to find a ride or take an Uber to the station, but he hadn’t mentioned anything last night, so she assumed he’d be back soon to shower and change himself. 

He reluctantly pulled his clothes back on, and kissed her one last time, “happy birthday, Lucy.”

“Best birthday ever.” She flopped back on the bed. 

~~~

“West,” Angela came up to Jackson, where he was waiting for Lucy to emerge from the locker room. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“I think so,” he answered. Lucy hadn’t mentioned wanting to cancel again. “She’s been obnoxiously happy today.” 

“It’s Lucy, she’s always obnoxiously happy,” Angela replied. 

“She’s been humming show tunes all day. And smiling.” Jackson shook his head. She’d be uncharacteristically quiet about it too. 

Angela closed her eyes, and leaned back against the wall, her left hand resting on her expanding stomach. “Tim’s been suspiciously happy too. Maybe he acted on your suggestion to take her out for her birthday dinner.”

“Should we do some digging? Get it out of them?” Jackson asked her.

“Nah, let them have their little secret if it makes them happy.” They’d both been through too much over the last few years. 

~~~

Tim truly had no intention of going to her birthday party. He hated clubs. They were too hot, too crowded, too loud. He couldn’t think of a worse way to spend a Saturday night, and yet he found himself pushing through the crowd sometime after midnight looking for Lucy and their friends.

“Tim.” Angela almost dropped her glass of water when she spotted him approaching where she sat on a barstool next to Wesley, her head resting on his shoulder as they watched Jackson and Lucy. “What are you doing here?”

What was he doing there? He wasn’t sure himself, just knew that he couldn’t stay away, no matter how much he told himself to. “It’s her birthday.” He finally settled on. He scanned the room for her. “She having fun?” He asked Angela.

She turned him in the right direction so he could see Lucy and Jackson standing on a table putting on a concert, dancing and belting out Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer. “Oh, I’d say.”

“Jesus.” He tried to glare at Angela but choked out a laugh instead. He thought about pulling out his phone and filming this. Add to his collection of embarrassing Lucy pictures. The joy on her face and the knowledge of how hard-earned this moment was for her stopped him. “I thought you were chaperoning, Lopez.” 

“In my defense, they pre-gamed,” Angela told him, shaking her head.

“A lot,” Wesley added from his spot next to Angela. 

“Where’s Nolan?” He had spotted Harper near Lucy’s impromptu concert stage.

“He left about forty-five minutes ago. Couldn’t hang.” She took a drink of her water, and turned to Wes, “I’m going to be able to hang, right? After the baby, I’ll still be able to do that every now and then?” She indicated Lucy and Jackson. 

“Absolutely,” Wes told her. He pulled her to him for a long kiss.

Tim just rolled his eyes and turned to order a beer when he felt someone crash against him. He huffed out an annoyed breath and was about to say something to the person about watching where they were going when he realized who the offender was. “Lucy.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against him, “You came to my party.” Surprise and a little bit of awe-filled her voice.

“Turns out I didn’t have anything better to do.” He put his arm around her shoulders to steady her when she swayed against him. He was aware that Angela and Wes were watching them, and that Angela would have a lot of questions for him. “This is some dress, Boot.” He murmured against her ear, just loud enough for her to hear. The gold sequin number fit her like a second skin and stopped well above her knee. The cap sleeves and modest front did nothing to offset the daring open back of the dress. 

“Play your cards right and I’ll let you take it off me later.” She murmured back just as quietly, before stepping out of his arms and returning to Jackson on the dance floor.

“Say nothing.” He warned Angela when Lucy left.

“I’m out,” Nyla told them, as she approached about forty minutes later. If she was surprised to see Tim standing with Angela and Wes she kept it to herself. “I’m taking Lila to breakfast in the morning, and I’m pretty sure Chen is closing this place down, so…”

Angela just groaned and buried her face against Wesley’s shoulder. 

“Go,” Tim said, nodding at Angela and Wesley.

Angela looked between Tim, Harper, and Jackson and Lucy out on the dance floor. “I promised that Wes and I would get them home.”

“Go,” Tim repeated, “I’ve got them.” There was no reason for his pregnant best friend to close down the club with Lucy and Jackson when he was more than capable of getting them home safely.

“Are you sure?” Angela asked him.

“He’s sure.” Wes helped Angela off her barstool, ready to get his pregnant fiancee home. “Thanks, man.” Wes clapped Tim on the shoulder.

“Thanks, Tim.” Angela gave him a quick hug. “She needed this,” she told him.

“Bradford,” Nyla turned back to face him before she got out of earshot, “watch out, Lucy’s a handsy, affectionate drunk,” she called out to him laughing, before turning back to leave with Angela and Wes.

~~~

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Tim told Lucy and Jackson when he finally convinced them it was time to leave and piled them into his truck. “Don’t touch the air conditioner or the radio, and if you puke you clean. Got it?”

“Got it,” they replied simultaneously with matching eye rolls.

“I’m so hungry,” Lucy said on a sigh as Tim climbed in behind the wheel and started the truck.

“Food trucks are closed, Boot.”

“Let’s go to The Greasy Spoon. I want pancakes, and French Fries, and a milkshake.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She was in the middle of the bench seat, sandwiched between him and Jackson. She was clutching Jackson’s hand and had her head resting on the other man’s shoulder, her eyes closed. She looked blissfully content and happy. “It’s 2:45 in the morning.” He told her.

“Please, Tim.” The hand not holding Jackson’s found his knee.

He rolled his eyes and wondered if there’d ever come a time he wouldn’t so easily cave to her. “Fine.”

She smiled happily. “This has been the best birthday,” she announced, “I’ve had so much fun. Seriously, so much fun. I’m so happy. You guys are my best friends, I love you. Did you have fun, Jacks?” 

Jackson just laughed, but it was laced with affection. He squeezed her hand tightly, “Yeah, Luce, I had fun. I’m glad you did too. You deserve it.”

“Jackson’s right, you deserved tonight.” Tim kept his eyes on the road as he drove them to the diner.

Her laugh filled the cab of the truck, “you should get that in writing, Jackson. He may never say those words again.”

Tim pulled the truck into the parking lot of The Greasy Spoon, “Let’s be quick about this. Some of us have to get up in the morning and be adults.” Lucy’s dog wasn’t going to feed and walk himself.

~~~

Somehow he should have known that this night was always going to end with him pulling into Lucy’s apartment complex at 4:15 in the morning. He had been kidding himself if he thought he’d go to that club for a few hours, send them home with Lopez or Harper, and go back to his own house alone. Jackson and Lucy were laughing as they recounted the highlights from their night out. Shots, dancing on tables, numerous song requests to the DJ, Jackson, and Nyla scaring off anyone who tried to get close to Lucy. “Out.” He ordered them, as he cut the ignition. 

“You’re coming up?” Jackson raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

“I’m not sure you two will make it upstairs if I don’t,” Tim answered easily.

“Sure, that’s it. It has nothing to do with the way Lucy hasn’t been able to keep her hands off you.” He was drunk, not blind.

“Nothing at all.” The woman in question had looped her arm through his and was resting her cheek against his arm as they got off the elevator.

Lucy yawned, “it’s not my fault he’s so fun to touch.” All warm skin and hard muscle. And so responsive, even when he was trying desperately to ignore her like he had been at the diner. There was always a tiny tremor, a flinch of awareness. 

Jackson dumped his wallet and keys on the table by the door and kicked off his shoes. He pulled Lucy away from Tim and into his arms, holding her tightly. “I love you, Luce. You’re my best friend. Happy birthday.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to go sleep until noon.”

“Water and Advil, West,” Tim called after him. “Water and Advil for you too.” He told Lucy, gently guiding her towards her bedroom. 

As soon as he’d closed the door behind them she was in his arms, her mouth on his. He groaned and reluctantly stepped back when she went for his belt, “you’re drunk, Luce.” He wasn’t sure if he was reminding her or himself. 

“Not that drunk.”

“Drunk enough.” He stepped behind her to undo the tiny hook and loop closure at the back of her dress. He couldn’t stop himself from trailing his fingers gently down the bare skin of her back.

She shivered when she felt his lips on her neck, “tease,” her voice was breathy.

He pushed the dress off her shoulders and down off her body. He grabbed the black tank top that was sitting on her bed and helped her put it on before he could tease either of them anymore. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple, “you need to sleep.”

She sat down on her bed, “you should stay awhile. Rest before driving home. It’s late.”

“Looking out for me, huh?” But he was already pulling his shirt over his head.

“Always.” She got under her blanket and made room for him to join her. When he was settled in beside her, she moved to burrow into his side, hooking a leg over his and throwing an arm over his chest.

“Good night, Luce.” He said through a yawn, wrapping his arms around her. Holding her closer to him.

“Tim.” She said his name quietly after several minutes of silence.

“Hmm.” He had been sure she was asleep against his side.

“You’re my favorite person.” 

He was quiet for a moment, letting her words wash over him. He felt them settle over him. “You’re my favorite person too.”

“I miss you.” He could hear sleep starting to overtake her.

He squeezed her tighter, “I’m right here. Hard to be any closer to you if I tried.”

“Meant every day beside me.” She mumbled. 

He felt her breathing level out and was pretty sure she’d finally fallen asleep. She could wreck him. He was so deep in whatever this was that she could easily destroy him, somehow he knew, deep in his gut, that he was safe with her. Lucy helped people heal the broken parts of themselves, even the pieces they didn’t know needed care, hadn’t she been doing that for him since their first day? He missed being in a shop with her every day, knowing that he had her back, but a full life with her? That would be better than just about anything he’d ever let himself hope for.


End file.
